


It's Just Business

by Ratsister



Series: Chicago Typewriter [2]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1920s AU, AU, Drug Use, F/M, Gen, Human Names, M/M, Mafiatalia, Organized Crime, Romance, Suspense, Violence, written accents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 18:02:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ratsister/pseuds/Ratsister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1920 Chicago. The Mafioso & devoted Capo v. the U.S Agent, the Bolshevik soldier, & a complex world of enemies & family. The only thing certain in a world of violence & crime: not everyone will come out alive. Expect surprises along the way.</p>
<p>See backstories, 'Mafia und Militär' and 'Going Down and Looking Up'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

1920\. Chicago.

A chill wind blew past the window of the top story penthouse. A babyfaced brunette sat at his desk enjoying his favorite dish, a heaping plate of spaghetti bolognaise. It was December and this had been a very good year. Prohibition had perhaps been the best thing to happen to him. He happily swirled the long noodles on his fork and prepared to take another bite.

The ringing of the phone broke the peaceful silence. Who had the audacity to call him during lunch? Whoever it was had better have a good reason or they'd be taking a long walk off a short pier. "Ve~ he sighed before picking up the phone.

"Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante" He spoke into the phone; his voice lighter and softer than the words.

"Forgive me Boss." The messenger spluttered into the phone. Feliciano's face darkened with each word as the unfortunate man relayed his information. When the nervous soldier, who had undoubtedly drawn the shortest straw finished, Feliciano's usually cheerful expression had completely disappeared to be replaced by one of both barely controlled rage and mounting panic. He hung up the phone without saying a word.

The petite Italian clenched and un-clenched his fists. He glanced at his forgotten pasta, the dish represented the delusional thoughts he had had a moment ago. With his financial success had, of course, come more responsibility. Family. His loud mouthed older brother was always causing trouble. In a flash the plate was flung from his desk.

"I'm sorry pasta." He apologized to the mess of noodles, sauce, and ceramic shards that littered the floor and smeared the wall across from him.

What should he do, Feliciano wondered as he paced. His brother Romano was supposed to have met with some new associates, but had never showed. He had last been seen with an unknown woman entering the Gold Star hotel. That sleazy den of booze and prostitution wasn't one of his. What had Romano been doing there?

Feliciano absentmindedly twirled his finger in the signature curl of his hair. Whatever Romano had gotten himself into Feliciano would get him out. He reached for the phone and dialed his best capo. Sure, he wasn't Italian, and that had caused a stir, but he got the job done and no one could argue with his results.

"Hallo" the German's clear voice sounded through the telephone.

"Veh~ Ludwig, I need your talents today." Feliciano flopped down into his leather chair and spun to face the window again, the phone cord wrapping around him.

"Of course!" Ludwig's voice dropped in concern. "Feli," He used the nickname few were allowed to call Don Vargas. "Feli, Vhat has happened? I can hear it in your voice, vhat is it?"

Feliciano repeated the information he had been given as he attempted to untangle himself from the phone cord.

"That hotel is in the Ukrainian part of town! Vhat vas he doing zhere?" Ludwig mused.

"I don't know! Veh~" Feliciano trailed off, retrieving his handgun from the drawer beneath the phone. "But I need to find out. Meet me outside in thirty minutes."

"I vill be zhere in 15." Ludwig answered.

"Arrivederci" Feliciano hung up the phone and smoothing his suit he made sure there were no sauce stains on it. With a last apologetic look toward his wasted pasta, the petite mafioso made for his private stair. He and Ludwig would find his brother and take care of anyone in their way. Feliciano allowed a small smile to lighten his expression. It was always nice to see Ludwig. After they got Romano out of his current troubles he would see if his hardworking capo wanted to go out for dinner. Afterall, he hadn't gotten to finish his lunch.

Forty-five minutes later Feliciano and Ludwig stepped out of the blonde man's Audi parked in the rear of the questionable hotel where Romano had last been seen. The cold wind swirled in the alley as the two men slipped in the back unnoticed.

The tall broad shouldered blonde walked ahead of his shorter companion. They silently made their way through the lounge where girls giggled with their patrons, past the door that led to the speakeasy below. They continued until they neared the door of an office. A gangly man armed with a machete stood guard outside.

Ludwig motioned for Feliciano to stay put out of sight while he took care of the guard.

The German stepped around the corner and before his leading foot hit the ground he shot the guard in the shoulder causing him to drop his weapon. He crossed the hall in seconds and before the gangly man could pick his weapon off the ground, Ludwig had pressed his still smoking pistol against the guard's forehead.

"Now, vhy don't you show me in to the owner of this establishment. Nice und easy, ja?"

Feliciano stepped from around the corner and the guard's eyes widened in recognition.

"D-d-don Vargas! Miss Katyusha - She, she is not in!" The young man squirmed against the door.

"Oh? Ve vill see about that." Ludwig spoke in a low growl before kicking the door in, making the guard jump as the door fell off it's hinges behind him. The office was indeed empty. Ludwig dragged the man inside as Feliciano followed behind him.

The blonde man threw the guard into the empty chair and tied his wrists to the arms then stepped back. Feliciano straightened the cuffs of his dress shirt and approached him.

"You were here earlier today." It was not a question, and the guard struggling in the chair knew it and so did not answer. Feliciano continued walking circles around the man. "You saw my brother. You saw who he was with." He faced the bound man again and leaned in, inwardly relishing his rare height advantage. "Where is he now?"

The man stopped struggling but didn't answer. Feliciano sighed. "Ve~ do not make this harder. It is only business. Answer my questions and we will both be able to have a nice evening." The guard still did not reply. Feliciano looked toward Ludwig who took a step closer. "I really don't enjoy causing pain, but I love my brother. You have one more chance to tell me where he is."

Silence.

"Veh~ I tried to make this easy for you." He motioned for Ludwig who took his place in front of the guard.

"You vill tell us everything ve vant to know." The guard shook his head, eyes wide. Ludwig continued, his cold blue eyes focused, "You vill." He turned toward Feliciano, "I do not vant to make you lose your appetite Feli."

The boss nodded and stepped outside the door, taking up a place down the hall where he could keep an eye out should the proprietor return.

An hour later Feliciano heard Ludwig's heavy steps behind him. He turned toward the tall blonde with a questioning look. Ludwig was wiping blood from his knuckles with a piece of striped cotton Feliciano recognized as the same pattern as the guard's shirt.

"He is alive. Though it is up to his bosses if he vill stay that vay." Feliciano glanced around Ludwig to the office. The guard was out cold, still tied to the chair, bloodied and bruised, his shirt torn and open. On his chest Ludwig had written the words "I talked" in the man's blood.

As the two men again made their way through the lounge, Ludwig whispered to Feliciano. "Romano vas here, but he didn't come on his own. The guard saw him as Natalya, the owner's sister, brought him in. According to him, she left Romano in a car vhile she spoke vith a government agent." Ludwig continued as they got back in the car, "He overheard the man agreeing to have his boss meet her on the river this evening at 7pm."

Feliciano looked to his watch. They had four hours. He looked up at Ludwig who insisted on driving himself even though he could have had a chauffeur. "Ve~ let's celebrate our new information with sweets!" Was that a sideways smile? The German didn't admit to it often, but Feliciano knew he had a serious sweet tooth. The brunette relaxed in his seat, confident now that they would retrieve his brother and all would be well. His thoughts turned away from business and toward spumoni as they drove downtown to his favorite shop.

* * *

 

As it neared 7 o'clock, a blonde be-speckled man waited aboard his yacht. His thoughts wandered over his predicament as he waited for the woman who had contacted his people at the Bureau of Investigation to show up. Yes, America was a melting-pot, a haven for all those oppressed, a place where one could pull themselves up by their bootstraps, chase the American dream and all that he mused. However, here he was trying to clean up his city, no, his country, and this certain Italian family had come in and made a mockery of the law! They had to go. That's why when he had been told about a foreign woman who said she had something that could eradicate the problem for him Alfred had been too intrigued to turn her down. He hoped it wasn't a trick.

He didn't have to wait long. A small motorboat was approaching; two women, one with long silvery hair, and the other with…well, a very well endowed chest, stood with a blindfolded and gagged brunette man between them.

Alfred went to help the ladies aboard. The long haired one brushed off his attempt and pulled herself up with surprising strength for her small frame, while the other accepted his hand with a smile. Once all were aboard, Alfred gestured toward the cabin and they went inside away from prying eyes.

Once inside, Alfred turned to the women and asked "So, you've got a solution to my crime problem?" The long haired one stood up proudly. "I am Natalya, this is my sister Katyusha. I propose to you, that we help get rid of your Italian troubles." She gestured toward the man slumped in a chair, garbled curse words coming out from around the gag.

"In return, you and your B.O.I see to it that my family is given freedom to establish our own businesses here in your country. We're much, much more polite." She smiled wide and it brought the image of a wolf about to attack his prey to Alfred's mind. His eyes slid to her sister Katyusha who was determinedly looking out the window.

"Uh..huh." Realization dawned on Alfred. "Natalya… you're Ivan Braginski's sisters!" He laughed then and knew what they were getting at. "It's a bit of a difficult time at home right now isn't it?" When neither answered he continued. "Does Ivan even know you're here?" Katyushka looked uncomfortable, Natalya looked murderous.

"I know what is in my big brother's best interests! He's too busy right now to think about the world of opportunities outside Russia." She continued closing the distance between them dangerously. "I know he will want to branch out. He will be glad I am here doing good for him." She sounded completely insane to Alfred who backed up and clearing his throat, changed the subject away from her brother, the man he had met years ago, for so short a time. The man whose file his fingers could find from memory, in the cabinet beside his desk.

"Uh, so you gonna introduce me to your, um, friend?" he asked eying the brunette still blindfolded and gagged in the chair.

"Of course," Natalya said silkily, as she strode behind the chair and in one flourish pulled the blindfold from the man's face.

Romano blinked in the light and staggered a bit, but once he stood upright he continued his string of both Italian and English swearing from around the gag. "I present to you," Natalya continued, "Feliciano Vargas!"

Alfred stood for a moment staring at the scene before him. He had seen way more than he wanted of Feliciano's face. The babyfaced crime boss flaunted his apparent immunity to justice everyday. Each time Alfred had something on him, evidence or a witness would disappear. This man was not Mr. Vargas. Well, at least not that Mr. Vargas. He laughed hard and then seeing the confused look on Natalya's face and the worried one on Katyusha's he wiped the tears from his eyes and resting a hand on Natalya's shoulder, which she quickly brushed away, he said, "Wrong Italian. This is his brother Romano." He turned toward the struggling, cursing brunette with a bright grin, "Right, Romano?"

The elder Vargas brother growled and glared daggers at everyone in the cabin as he continued to attempt to free his hands from behind his back.

At the same moment that Romano struggled, Katyusha looked stricken, Natalya radiated loathing at her mistake, and Alfred wondered whether he ought to keep Romano for questioning or just let him go as a lost cause, shots suddenly rang out across the river.

"Get down!" the American yelled to both women as holes were shot through the side of his yacht. He rushed to pull Katyusha down, shielding her with himself as Natalya ducked behind a chair, already pulling out a pair of daggers,

Romano took his chance, and though his legs were tied at the knees and his wrists behind his back, he staggered stiltedly toward the open window. If he was wrong, and it wasn't his brother, he'd be shot. Luckily for him, the gunfire stopped at his appearance in the window. Looking down into the deck of his little brother's yacht, the mobster tried to grin around the gag and before his captors or the American could stop him, he threw himself head first out the window to flip and land on his back in familiar territory.

Feliciano rushed to his brother as Ludwig gunned the engine and they pulled away leaving nothing but foam and spray in their wake.

* * *

> End of Ch. 1! I hope it was enjoyable :D
> 
> B.O.I = Bureau of Intelligence, the forerunners of the FBI we know today.
> 
> Gold Star is the name of a bar in chicago that used to be part of a "hotel of ill repute" and a speakeasy during prohibition. I dont know if it was called gold star back then or not, but it sounds cool so I kept it.
> 
> Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante = This better be important (Italian) Thanks to Piyo13 for the Italian :D You're wonderful! (I have no experience with Italain!)
> 
> And, I know the mafia aka Cosa Nostra is a Sicilian organization, but for my purposes we're going with Italy proper. I don't pretend to be an expert in the mafia, I just try to do my research. I'm a psych student, not a criminologist. This story will be kept as true to history as possible though there will be some obvious liberties taken - when those are taken, I will explain this in the notes; for example - Alfred and Ivan meeting during WW1 was unlikely as is Kiku's presense in the story at all - however, I want them there - it wouldn't be the same without them, and this is fanfiction afterall :) I will make note of historical inaccurancies as we encounter them in the story, however I do try to keep them to a minimum.
> 
> This is written up to chapter 20 already on ff.net, and was originally uploaded in 2011; I am moving it over here as fast as possible - chapter 2 will be up shortly!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues!

Alfred stood and held out a hand to Katyusha who smiled and mumbled a small "thank you." He then turned to her sister who was just sheathing her daggers into a strap on her thigh. Alfred quickly looked away, embarrassed.

He walked to the open window and resting his palms on the sill, he breathed in the cool wind blowing across the river. He spoke to the sisters without looking back to give Natalya time to compose herself. " _That_ was Feliciano Vargas. He is shorter than his brother; his hair is slightly lighter, a mahogany color and curls on the other side."

Natalya was suddenly behind him. For some reason it gave Alfred the chills. Was he really considering a deal with this woman? Before he could answer his own question she let out a low whisper as though she was talking to herself. "Good to know. I will not make the same mistake again."

Alfred turned to face her, "And he always has that tall German around."

"Hmmm" Natalya appeared to be thinking; her eyes flickered toward the doorway of the cabin. She turned to her sister, "Sestra, we have much to do. First, we must find out how they found us here and what they know of us." Katyusha nodded and went to stand by the door as her younger sister stepped over splinters and broken pieces of furniture.

Suddenly Katyusha spoke up as Natalya reached the door. "Should we perhaps tell Ivan what's going on? Maybe he could-" but Natalya cut her off. "He is far too busy right now, we've talked about this!"

Katyusha acquiesced to her sister, "Da sestra, of course." Alfred stayed quiet as he watched the two sister's exchange. As they both began the decent to their motor boat he followed them out onto the deck.

"I will bring Feliciano Vargas to you." Natalya spoke again, looking up at him from the ladder; her sister was already readying their boat below. Alfred realized she may not understand the law in America.

He straightened his glasses and leaned over the railing as she continued her descent. "Um, you know I can't just arrest him without evidence or a confession." He wasn't sure what he had expected her response to be, but it hadn't been the look he saw now. Her grey-blue eyes lit up malevolently and a shadow seemed to cross her face for a moment though the sun was not out to cast one.

"A confession? I can do that." Her lips split in a wicked smile as she hopped off the last rung of the ladder to join her sister in the boat.

Was this the kind of woman he wanted to make a deal with? Alfred thought again. "Just – Just get that confession and then we'll talk." He called down to them. There, he thought to himself running a hand through his hair, he hadn't really made a deal. He only said he'd talk to her and see where it went from there. Alfred wasn't stupid. He knew he may just be trading one crime syndicate for another. He would have to make sure he played his cards right here. His mind trailed off as he looked around at the damage done.

"Damn. I was so close to having this thing paid off, and now it needs repairs." He sighed, then put it out of his mind. First things first, he would have to get back to the office, see what he could find out about these sisters. Maybe a trip to Russia wouldn't be a bad idea, either. Ivan would undoubtedly be more sensible than his clearly unstable sister.

It was an hour later when Alfred unlocked the door to his office and strolled in ready to dig up whatever he could on Natalya and Katyusha. As he set his coffee on the desk he noticed a letter. It was from his brother Mathew in Canada. Alfred hadn't seen him in ages; he happily tore open the envelope to read it.

_Alfred, I've decided it been too long since I visited! I know you're always busy but I'm coming down there. I know you'll make time for my delicious pancakes! I'm leaving tonight so I should be there the day after you get this letter. I wanted to write you instead of call because I know sometimes you forget when I'm coming for a visit. This way you can pin the letter to your office door so you won't forget._

_See you soon!_

_Your brother,_

_Mathew_

A bright grin lit up Alfred's face. He plopped down in his seat, put his feet up on the desk and sipped at his coffee. Mathew's pancakes were the best! He would have a day to dig up any dirt on the sisters, and then he could hang out with Matt for a few days before heading over to Russia to meet with Ivan. His grin faded just a bit at a sudden thought. The civil war over there was still going strong. Would that be a problem?

He reached over to the filing cabinet beside his desk and pulled out the file marked Braginski, I. He didn't need to look to find the edges of the worn file. Ivan had been on their side during the Great War before the Russian Empire became the Soviet Republic and left the war effort. Alfred had met him personally once, once that he could remember…those dreams, but no, he shook the thought from his mind, they were only dreams. The image of a violet eyed soldier swam into focus in his mind. Alfred recalled his bloodstained and torn uniform; the strangest thing had been Ivan's scarf. It was immaculate. How had he kept that scarf so pristine?

Alfred shook his head again and the image of Ivan from his mind. Now he was part of the Bolshevik government, which Alfred's government definitely did not support. America had recently been helping the counter-revolutionary White army instead and had only just pulled their troops from Siberia that year when it was clear the Reds were going to win.

He let his feet drop from his desk as he sat up straighter. He would go to Russia. What was their civil war compared to the Great War? Before Mathew arrived he'd get it all set up and after his brother's visit he'd travel straight to Moscow. He'd simply avoid getting involved in their politics and get back home as quickly as possible to deal with Feliciano and his foul mouthed brother.

Alfred took another sip of his coffee before flipping open the file.

_Closest Family Members: Two sisters. The elder, Katyusha Braginskaya is now living in Chicago, owner of the Gold Star hotel. The younger, Natalya Arlovskaya is known to have contacts with criminal organizations in Belarus and Lithuania though her current whereabouts are unknown._

Well, he'd have to amend that, Alfred thought as he flipped through the file. His eyes fell on the picture of Ivan stapled to the page of his known history. It couldn't hurt to read up on him a bit, Alfred thought. He reached for another sip of his coffee and resting his chin in his palm, his elbows on the desk, he began to read.

As Alfred sat in his office late into the night, Feliciano was leaving his brother's house. Romano had told him everything that had happened. Most troubling was the agent's willingness to work with the Byelorussian. Feliciano's stomach growled as he got into the car and he asked his driver to make a stop at the first phone booth he saw.

* * *

 

The petite man played with the ends of his jacket as he went over the day's events. Feliciano had thought he had paid off enough in the local government to keep this sort of thing from happening. Clearly, he hadn't paid off enough in Washington to keep the feds at bay. He would have to do something about this over zealous agent Jones.

Feliciano was frustrated and hungry. He wouldn't be able to think straight until he got some dinner. He had meant to ask Ludwig to join him as well, but in all the commotion after rescuing Romano he had forgotten to ask him. Once they had gotten Romano safely home, his German capo had left to collect the monthly protection money gathered by his men. Surely he had still not eaten.

The driver stopped and Feliciano immediately got out and made his way to the phone booth. He looked to either side and satisfied at seeing none of his enemies, he whistled happily as he dialed his favorite restaurant.

After making the order he dialed Ludwig's number.

"Hallo" the familiar voice came over the receiver.

"Ludwig! How much did your guys bring in in protection this month? Anyone resist paying? Feliciano asked cheerfully.

"The usual $20,000." Ludwig's voice was serious as always. "One resistance, but no need to worry, I persuaded him that it vas in his best interest."

Feliciano chuckled lightly. Ludwig was always able to lift his spirits. "I was thinking, have you eaten yet? Its been such a long day, if you haven't would you like to come eat with me?" Why was there suddenly a lump in his throat? He stood up straight and adjusted his collar.

"Ja, I vould like that." Ludwig replied after a moment. "Vhere do you vant to go?"

Feliciano grinned into the receiver, "I'm actually picking something up. You can meet me at my place Veh~."

Silence. Feliciano's heart raced.

Why was he so worked up? After three years, still? Surely he just needed to eat. He was about to add something else when Ludwig's voice came back softer than usual.

"Ja. That sounds nice."

Feliciano let out his breathe relieved. "Veh~ Great! I'll see you soon!" He hung up the phone and rushed back to the car, glad to be out of the December wind and on his way to pick up dinner. He would think about what to do about that agent and the Byelorussian later. It couldn't be too messy. A government agent would be missed. He shook the thoughts from his head. He was on his way to food and deserved a break just for the night.

Ludwig hung up the phone and turned away from the stove. He looked over to his brother Gilbert seated at the table feeding the tiny bird on his head breadcrumbs. The taller blonde took the jagersnitzel he had just made them from the stove and made his brother a plate. The pale haired man looked up from his seat, "Only one plate?"

"Ah, Ja. I have to go meet mit my boss. He said he would have food there, so…"

Gilbert looked up with a smirk, "It seems you're always with these days." He said, "Moved up quickly in the ranks, didn't you Bruder?"

The tall blonde slammed the plate down on the table, "I believe in a good work ethic. I don't know vhat you are insinuating!"

His brother looked to the plate and raised and eyebrow. "So touchy Ludwig. Slamming dinnerware like that. Work must be stressful. Or...", he emphasized the next word with a wink, "distracting."

Ludwig spluttered incoherently before getting his wits about him again. "Work is just fine - you are stressful! Feli - ciano is my boss and a good friend. That is all! Oh god , he had almost used the nickname! Ludwig could feel his face grow hot and prayed his brother hadn't noticed.

Gilbert cheeped on his older brother's head. "Feli...?" Gilbert grinned wide as he said the name. Ludwig's face grew hotter still.

"I..I had a hiccup..." He said reaching for his coat, determinedly not meeting his brother's eyes. Before he had had a chance to put the coat on his brother frowned.

"Bruder you can't leave with out bringing me my beer. You can't expect the awesome me to get my own Beer can you?"

Ludwig let out a low rumble from the base of his throat, "Ja! Get your own beer!" He was to busy looking for his keys, the sooner he left the better at this point. "Where are my keys?" Ludwig tossed pillows from the sofa angrily and bent down to peer beneath.

From his position on the floor he was unable to see his brother's eyes alit on a pair of keys on the table and pocket them. All he heard as he stood back up was "I don't know Ludwig. You've been unusually scatterbrained lately. It's obvious you have something else on your mind." Gilbert leaned suggestively across the table at him before continuing, "and I spend all day at work pouring beer. The least you can do is get me a pint."

Ludwig stomped back toward the table as he retorted, "I have nothing on my mind!" As the last syllable dropped from his tongue, he recognized the beginnings of a laugh on his brother's lips. "I mean, anything on my mind is none of your business!" He amended loudly from the kitchen as he reached into the icebox for a beer.

He returned from the kitchen and resentfully slid the beer across the table to Gilbert. "here - have your damn pint!

His brother's red eyes sparkled with mirth as he gloated at receiving what he wanted. "Here!" he pulled the keys from his pocket and tossed them to Ludwig. "Have your damn keys!" He took a sip and leaned back in his seat throwing his feet up on the table. He took a second sip and then continued with an ever wider grin. "and I wouldn't want to see anything on your mind Bruder. I never went for Italians."

Ludwig's eyes went wide, "Vhat?"

His older brother just ignored Ludwig's outburst and waived his hand dismissively. "Ja, ja, just go. Gilbird has more of a clue than you." Ludwig glared as he began to finally put on his coat.

"Ja, I vill go."He lifted his chin, trying to will the blush from his face. "Enjoy your dinner bruder".

Gilbert chuckled, and whispering to the little bird he said, "You can't blame him. He does have that cute little curl."

This comment sent Ludwig over the edge. He was talking about his boss- his friend- he…well, he didn't quiet know how to explain himself, but it was the last straw. The tall blonde was at his brother in an instant, both fists slammed into the table on either side of the shorter man. "Augh! If you were not mein bruder!"

Gilbert stared at his irate sibling for a moment and then burst out laughing. Gilbird chirped and flew in circles above the two men.

Oh, his brother was impossible! "Vhat are you laughing at?" Ludwig bellowed at the paler man. The younger brother reached into his coat and brandished his pistol. "I mean it! I vould shoot you in the head!"

Gilbert's laughter finally subsided but his grin remained "So possessive West!" His grin split now from ear to ear as he continued, "and yet so incapable of staking a claim!"

Ludwig stood up and spluttered again, "I didn't mean...you, augh! I'm going to be late!" He turned, grabbed his favorite hat, a grey fedora with blue stripe around the band, and headed for the door. He had turned he knob and was just stepping onto the porch when his brother called after him.

"Careful Bruder, if you don't, I might!" He continued to guffaw from the dining room.

Ludwig didn't know what to say, but his blood was boiling. He turned to face Gilbert again, "Its not like that! You don't know vhat you're talking about!" completely involuntarily he added under his breathe, "und he vouldn't be interested if you did." As he turned back outside.

He was just about to slam the door when Gilbert's laughter subsided and he became unexpectedly serious. "Bruder, I run a speakeasy. It is not as uncommon as you think. No one cares what goes on behind closed doors. I've seen some suspicious things in your room." He teased; Ludwig grunted a non committal sound. "And yet you seem so straight laced! It is impossible to tell what people like. Take it from your wise older brother Gilbert."

Was his older brother actually trying to impart advice? Ludwig once again turned back to the house. He honestly didn't know what to say about the feelings he had toward Feliciano. For years he just chalked it up to wanting to be good at his job, always there if Feliciano needed him, but for a while he had to admit… he had been unsure if that was all it was. It didn't matter. Whatever it was, he would suppress it. He sighed deeply and returned his brother's uncharacteristic seriousness.

"I do not have your life. If I vanted...not that I do...vhat I mean is, my job is...vell, you just have to maintain a certain image." He cleared his throat. "I..I have to go."

It seemed that Gilbert understood what he was saying, and in another of his rare moments he stood at the table and looked at Ludwig seriously. "Ja, Bruder I know. You should come to the joint sometime. Relax."

Ludwig chuckled, Maybe he did need a break. "Ja. Ja, vhen I have the time I vill try to come by." With that he closed the door and stepped out into the cold air. As he started the car and headed in the direction of Feliciano's penthouse he breathed deeply. Whatever he was feeling would stay deep inside. Feli didn't feel the same way, of course. ' _But if he did?_ ' a little voice whispered in his head. Ludwig turned the radio on. As loud as the dial would turn.

* * *

 

_End o' Chapter 2_

_I hope you all enjoyed reading that as much as I did writing it!_


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you want conversations, have them over food.

Ludwig opened the door to Feliciano's suite to find the petite brunette sitting comfortably on the floor, a veritable feast of cheesy, saucy dishes on a cloth beside him.

"Ludwig! I hope you're hungry," he said indicating the various dishes. "Fettuccini alfredo, linguini and clams, manicotti, lasagna, of course bread, and antipasto!" Ludwig could feel himself start to grin as Feliciano's eyes lit up and he continued. "And for dessert," he held up a white take-out bag tied with a ribbon, "Cannolis!"

The tall blonde took a seat on the plush red carpet across from Feliciano. "Ja, that does sound good." He was immediately handed a glass of wine. As he helped himself to some linguini, Ludwig couldn't help but lift his eyebrows at the plate Feliciano had made. It was covered in each kind of dish and he was swirling his fork into some fettuccini with an enraptured look in his eyes.

"Hungry?" Ludwig asked, taking a bite himself. He couldn't help but smile and tried to ignore that voice in his mind that had spoken up before. _But if he does?_ If…but Feliciano was his boss, even though they were also friends, and he would not do anything…did he want to anyway? He wasn't sure what he was feeling…what's wrong with Gilbert? Why couldn't he ever just shut up?"

While he had been lost in thought, his fork halfway to his mouth, Ludwig hadn't noticed that Feliciano had moved. When he spoke right beside him instead of across from him he jumped and nearly dropped his plate. "Feli! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Veh~ Oh, I'm sorry Ludwig," Feliciano laughed and sitting up on his knees he threw his arm around the taller man's shoulders. "But I mean it!"

Wait, had he said something? "Mean vhat Feli?" His boss's light caramel brown eyes looked sincere, if a little unfocused. "I don't know what I'd do without you; nothing today could have gone as smoothly, and here you are with me, to celebrate the successful retrieval of my brother!"

Ludwig squinted. "How many glasses of this have you had, Feli?"

Instead of answering, he clinked his glass on Ludwig's untouched one and then lay down on his back against the soft carpet grinning from ear to ear happily. "We're going to have to do something about that Byelorussian though – Veh~we can't have her working with the feds."

"Vhat?" Ludwig turned to look down at Feliciano. "Is that vhat Romano said? You didn't tell me yet."

"Oh I didn't, did I?" Feliciano began to recount what Romano had told him. By the time he finished, his blonde friend's eyes were no more than blue slits and his fists were clenched, both the wine and linguine forgotten on the floor.

Ludwig's voice was low when he spoke. "Don't vorry. Ve vill find out everything zhere is to know about her and I vill get rid if her…and that agent Jones."

"I know, Veh~ that's why you're amazing…" Feliciano trailed off staring up at him. Ludwig felt heat flush to his face and he wasn't sure what to say or do, so he merely sat there looking down at Feliciano.

Lying on the floor below, clearly tipsy, was the most feared and respected crime boss in all of America and Italy. However, if he hadn't known any of that he would have only seen a small, happy, baby-faced Italian man, drunk on red wine and his confidence in Ludwig.

"Ve~ " Feliciano sat up suddenly and looked around at the bits of leftover food to rest his eyes on the bag of cannolis. He wavered a bit as he stood and removed his navy blue pin striped jacket, dropping it on the nearby sofa where his gun already rested. As he loosened the collar of his white dress shirt, he picked up the bag and smiling brightly, he pulled out a cylindrical pastry filled with cream. "Ever had a cannoli, Ludwig?"

"Nein, I do not think I have…ve have cream filled pastries in Germany though." He crossed the space to where Feliciano stood and accepted the offered pastry. He took a bite from the end. "Mmmm. Very good Feli – if you like these you should try cremeschnitte!"

Ludwig looked down at the shorter man; Feliciano had already made quick work of his cannoli, taking care of the creamy inside first and then eating the flaky dough. He smiled up again at Ludwig, remnants of cream all over his mouth.

Ludwig forgot who he was for a moment, his heart beat furiously in his chest. _Oh god, Gilbert was right!_ The pace of his heart, that knotted feeling in his stomach, that heat coming over his face, he wasn't stupid and try as he might, he couldn't lie to himself. His mind blanked on anything to do or say for the second time that night. _Get yourself together Ludwig!_ He mentally scolded himself.

Thankfully he was spared from finding something to say as Feliciano bent and retrieved a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his jacket and wiped his mouth. He then poured himself another glass of wine and flopped onto the sofa. "Ve~Ludwig – you look so stressed! Everyday can't be work or we'll go crazy; have a seat, have some wine-" He noticed Ludwig hadn't drank any. "Oh, Ve~ I forgot you prefer beer!"

Ludwig sat down quickly on the other end of the sofa saying, "Nein, it is no problem. You can have my wine." He honestly wasn't sure how he would control his mutinous emotions if under the influence.

To his horror, Feliciano leaned across his chest as he reached for the phone on the end table. Ludwig could hear the other end of the line as the young made man answered so many stories below. "Yes, Don Vargas, sir?" Feliciano cleared his throat lightly, "Have some beer brought up please." "of course sir. What kind?" "Imported. Do we have access to any German beers?" " Si, we do, sir."

Feliciano's face was uncomfortably close to Ludwig's, but he didn't seem to notice as he turned, decreasing the space between them. "Veh~ What's your favorite?" As he asked, Ludwig knew he would have no way out of drinking, so he may as well have the best he could.

"Oettinger."

* * *

 

Several hours later, Feliciano's carpet was littered with empty bottles of wine and beer. Ludwig sat on the floor against the wall gazing out the double glass doors to the balcony. The Italian had passed out half an hour ago and now leaned against the blonde's shoulder snoring lightly.

Ludwig was beginning to sober up a bit, but knew he was still in no condition to drive home, and at any rate, the sun would be rising soon enough. It would make no difference to go home now. He leaned his head back against the wall as he could just imagine Gilbert's reaction when he finally did return. Ludwig could see his brother's smirk in his mind: _Oh stayed the night I see, West._ And then there would be rumors in the organization…well, not if they were smart. Ludwig smiled then, realizing that both he and Feliciano could silence a rumor with a bullet.

He congratulated himself on not acting on, or divulging, his emotions throughout the night, though there had been many close calls…Feliciano had been very close all night and lighthearted. He had even been the one to lead Ludwig by the hand to sit where they were now in front of the balcony doors. Just before passing out he had simultaneously talked about the beauty of the stars and attempted to plan the attack on the Byelorussian's mob. That was before he stopped mid sentence and dropped his head onto Ludwig's shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Ludwig rested his chin on top of Feliciano's head. He was still conflicted. He knew how he felt now, though he still didn't know how to admit it in clear words even to himself, but he really didn't know if Feliciano felt the same way. Resolving to just keep it all to himself and control his emotions Ludwig sighed.

The sound, or perhaps the movement of Ludwig's chest caused the brunette leaning on him to stir. He didn't quite wake, but murmured something inaudible and scooted closer into Ludwig's chest, draping one arm across his waist.

Thankful for the effects of the beer, which put him at ease and lowered his inhibitions to a degree, Ludwig lowered the arm that had been resting behind his head to encircle Feliciano. If the other man woke now and did not feel the same, he'd have every right to shoot him, Ludwig thought. However, something told him that was unlikely to happen.

Feliciano moved again, closer and mumbled once more. It almost sounded familiar. Ludwig leaned his head to better hear. "Vhat did you say?" he whispered.

It was barley audible at all and Ludwig had to strain to hear him. "Ti amo Lu-" the words ended in a snore.

His heart stopped, and then quickened at his comprehension.

Ludwig rested his forehead on top of Feliciano's hair. "Ich liebe dich auch, Feli."

He whispered it so quietly, he barely heard it himself.

While the Mafioso and his capo slept off the effects of their night wrapped in eachother's arms, the sun rose and shown down on the city. Across town Alfred Jones was just beginning to wake up.

* * *

 

Mmmmm…he had been dreaming the most wonderful dream. His brother was down and he was making him pancakes. He turned in his blankets, disentangling himself as his stomach growled. Alfred stood, stretched, and just as he was about to turn the handle of his bedroom door he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps from the other side of the wall. Listening hard, he heard the water facet turned on, the sound of dishes clinking together, a drawer opening…Mathew was due to get in sometime today, could he be here already, he wondered as his stomach gave another rumble.

He hoped so, but being who he was, he knew it could just as easily be a robber, or worse. Hurrying into his pants from the night before and grabbing his pistol from beneath the mattress, Alfred stepped cautiously into the hall.

He turned the corner into the kitchen slowly, leading with his gun, and was greeted with a gasp and the sound of glass shattering. He recognized that tiny gasp. "MATTIE!"

Alfred ran around the corner, leaping over the broken glass and spilled orange juice on the floor to embrace his brother. Mathew hugged his twin back, laughing nervously.

"You nearly scared me to death Al!"

Alfred pulled back as Mathew bent to pick up the mess on the floor. He smiled, "Why didn't you wake me up man?"

Mathew walked to the trash and disposed of the broken glass. "I knocked on the door four times before I used my key. When I saw you were still asleep, I assumed you had had a late night at work."

"Well you were right," Alfred conceded running his hands through his tousled hair in an attempt to smooth it. The two brothers looked almost like mirror images of each other, the only exceptions were that Mathew wore his hair slightly longer, his glasses were of a different style, and of course at the moment he was a lot more put together in a buttoned shirt and vest, his tweed jacket draped over the counter. Alfred was bedraggled as he usually was in the morning. His hair was a mess, and he wore only his khaki slacks from the day before.

After the mess was fully picked up and Alfred had thrown on a shirt and washed his face, he sat at the table with the plate his brother had made him, digging in happily.

Alfred looked up at his brother, who was rinsing off the skillet, and asked around a full mouth, "So, how long do you have off?"

Mathew picked up his own pancakes and joined his brother at the table "about 3 weeks until the new semester starts." He reached for the syrup, but his twin got to it first, pouring even more onto his stack. Alfred choked slightly. "that long?"

His brother furrowed his brow and retorted, not trying to hide his annoyance, "Yes...one of the perks of being in academia."

Alfred stopped shoveling his breakfast into his mouth and waved his hands as he swallowed. " No, not that I don't want you here Mattie!" He took another bite and continued, "I just gotta go somewhere on business in a few days." He continued to talk with his mouth full, "you can stay here and hang out."

Mathew visibly relaxed. "Oh that's no problem. A quick trip down to D.C? I think I can manage." He finally got his hands on the syrup.

Alfred looked sheepish and attempted to muffle his response by taking a drink of his juice. "Um…a little farther away."

His brother looked across the table, suspicion showing clearly in his eyes. "How far are we talking, Al?"

Alfred sat down his juice and tried to be as nonchalant as possible. "Oh, abroad - but I'm flying so it'll take no time, just a couple days and I'll be back!" He quickly added, "Wanna go to a black hawks game tonight? They're playing the maple leaves!" in an attempt to distract his brother with his love of hockey.

Unfortunately Mathew was too observant for that tactic, giving a look that clearly said _of course, do you have to ask?_ he didn't let the conversation end there. He looked up brightly at Alfred and swallowed his mouthful of pancake before continuing. "Abroad? That's cool. Wish I could travel for my job! Where are you going?"

Not seeing a way out, Alfred finally answered. "Um, Russia."

Mathew choked on the juice he had just been sipping. "Russia? As in, war torn Russia?"

Alfred, in his best devil-may-care way tried to ease his twin's worry. "Yeah, but you know, should be no big deal I'm just going straight to the capital - nothing I cant handle" He ended with an overlarge grin to show just how not a big deal it was.

Mathew frowned and stared at his brother. "Is this something you were ordered to do? Surely they wouldn't send you in alone. You will have protection, I assume?"

Alfred looked anywhere but at Mathew. "Um, actually I asked to go; it was before I got your letter" And then looking back with his grin back in place he interjected, "and yeah! I'll totally have my gun!"

Mathew gaped at his brother, incredulity etched all over his face, he slammed his palm down on the tabletop. "Alfred! I meant protection as in other men! Bodyguards!"

Alfred leaned back in his seat and laughed "I'll be fine, It's not like I wont have ammo"

Mathew conceded that he wasn't going to get through to Alfred on that point and decided to at least get more information on how dangerous his brother's mission was going to be. "what are you doing in Russia anyway?" He couldn't help but add under his breath, "You ridiculous idiot..."

Alfred took another bite and answered "classified." He then pointed his fork at his brother, drops of syrup landing on the table. "I heard that! Just cause I'm not a professor like you..."

Mathew glowered. "I would expect a government man to at least realize we aren't exactly in good with the Bolsheviks and if you asked to go I'm betting YOU made it classified. In other words, tell me!" he showed his annoyance with a half hearted sound low in his throat.

Alfred's eyes widened. Realizing he'd been caught, he gave in and chuckled "You're too smart , you know that? And yeah, I know we're not on good terms, OBVIOUSLY. Ok," He added a few more pancakes to his plate before continuing in a long run on sentence. "I'm gonna go have a talk with the brother of a Byelorussian woman whose mob is currently fighting the Italians that have been giving us so much trouble. 'Might be useful, but gotta see if its really a good idea."

Mathew ran his hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair. "You know what? Never mind, I didn't want to know. Only you would think making a deal with one criminal to put away another would solve your problem."

Alfred knew his brother would rather not think about what his job entailed at times. Though he would never admit it, he sometimes wondered what it would be like to be a history professor like his brother, with no life or death worries, but in the end he loved his work and needed a job where he really knew he made a difference in the world; saving the innocent, putting away the bad guys. Good for him or not, it was his bread and butter.

Leaning forward across the table Alfred replied seriously, "one thing at a time you know" then, relaxing back into his seat he added, "Don't worry, I actually met the guy once before in the war, remember when I was shot down over the Eastern front?" At the somber nod from his brother, Alfred went on, "Ivan Braginski; tall, purple eyes, wears a scarf. He seemed reasonable enough." Partly to himself, he added, "not that we talked much..."

Mathew snorted. "Purple eyes and a scarf. That makes such a HUGE difference then. Besides, I thought it was his sister you were really dealing with. If he's all the way in Russia what does he have to do with this?"

Alfred waved his fork around by his temple. "She's nuts! Plus she says she's doing it on his behalf, but he doesn't know what she's up to, I think. If he's really the one calling the shots, I should deal with him." He leaned forward again and raised his eyebrows for effect, "Seriously. Loony."

His brother's eyes opened wide in a dawning realization. "Ah so you think this Braginski may not approve of her activities? I see. So by the time she's handled the Italians you've got big brother to put an end to her little criminal organization. But Al, there's the one catch, what if he's onboard with all this?"

Alfred grew thoughtful. "Um, well...in that case, I'll need to assess what threat his organization poses us." He silently contemplated this for a moment before shrugging and adding, "He had a kind looking face though, so not too worried."

Mathew flushed pink and was instantly suspicious of his brother's unusually poetic description, and appalled at his apparent lack of forethought. "A kind face? Violet eyes?" He looked across the table at Alfred, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Well it's memorable!" Alfred defended himself as he reached behind him for the file he had left on the kitchen counter the night before. He pulled out the picture and handed it across to Mathew. "See?" he continued, "I mean how many people have violet eyes like that?"

Mathew relaxed as he looked over the photo. "Okay, it's unique, I admit. Just...mind yourself." He handed Alfred back the picture of Ivan.

"See?" He placed the photo back into the file. "And he's got a slight smile, I'm sure it'll be a piece of cake!" besides relax – it's the 20's, we're not in the teens anymore, gotta live life! You should do the same. I bet you're always in the office or the library! Get out and live a little, go to a club or something while I'm away!"

Mathew folded his arms disdainfully. "Sometimes I think YOU'RE still in the teens."

Alfred just laughed. "You know I'm right though brother! What is it -50% office, 30%library, 20% museum? I work all the time too but I still manage to see some action!"

Mathew replied skeptically, "What "action" am I missing out on exactly? I like the museum and I go to the theater sometimes!"

Alfred laughed fully, throwing his head back and than teased his brother. "Oh well! I was wrong! You're a real animal! Have fun, meets some girrrrllls!" he laughed again.

His brother raised an eyebrow and replied with sarcasm. "Oh yes like the girls that are always hanging off your arm." He continued, "Seriously when did you last have a girlfriend?"

Alfred looked affronted. "Hey, I'm really busy! I'm a federal investigator! I investigate dangerous people!" He put on his best saintly look. "I wouldn't want anyone to get hurt by association."

Mathew turned serious. "So you're never going to get married then?" and then teased, "probably for the good of the human race..."

This time Alfred didn't hear his brother's second comment, and replied with equal seriousness to the first question. "I don't know. Maybe I'm not the marrying type."

"Well that's okay. We're more than enough family for each other." His brother smiled slightly, eyes on his plate.

Alfred thought he might be trying to hint at something, but wasn't sure. "right!" He grinned. "Well, do go out and have fun with someone!"

Mathew blushed furiously at the word 'someone' and cleared his throat. "Right I'll uh...I'll go to the pictures or something. You'll be back in just a few days? I want details and you'd better not be late."

Alfred was glad to see that Mathew wasn't arguing anymore. "Yeah! The pictures; there are a bunch of good ones right now!" He stood from the table. "I'll fill you in as soon as I get back! I don't leave until the day after tomorrow anyway and I'll only be gone a few days." He nudged his brother with an elbow, "I want details too - you better not stay in and read the whole time and just SAY you went out!"

Mathew scrunched his brow. "A few days is awfully vague Al, you'd better not be pulling the wool over my eyes, eh?"

"No, no really! I've missed you Matt!" Alfred hugged his twin with one arm, the other still holding the fork and Alfred's last bite of pancake. "I want to get back as soon as I can and hang out with you!" I would guess it may take 3 days tops."

Mathew squeezed his brother back, "Good. I'll be waiting!" Alfred started toward the hall; Mathew stopped him, "And put your plate in the sink if you're done, you slob."

Alfred turned back to the table. "Ok, ok..." He put the plate away and then, "hey, there's a great burger joint down the street - lets go for lunch before the game!"

Mathew smiled softly. "It's always burgers with you isn't it?"

"best food ever!" Alfred answered from the doorway to the hall. "At least besides your breakfasts!"

Mathew sniffed. "I always have to bring my own syrup. I've seen the stuff you keep in the cabinet."

Alfred called from the hallway, "Well, you just need to mail a case to me then!" Al right, I'm taking a shower -and then we're gonna have some fun! I'm not working till I have to leave for Russia!"

Mathew finished his plate and called back to his brother as he heard the shower kick on. "Alright then. Wash behind your ears, etc. etc." He waved his hand toward the bathroom as he picked up the rest of the dishes and walked to the sink.

* * *

 

_End of Ch. 3_

_I hope you all liked this chapter, it was low on action, but I think it set the stage for what's to come…_

_For a sneak peak into chapter 4, we'll have more good ol' mafia action, Alfred's arrival in Moscow and Mathew exploring one of Chicago's clubs~ oh my._

_And yes, if there are fellow hockey fans out there: I know the blackhawks weren't in existence until 1926, lets just pretend they were shall we? LOL and I know the Maple Leaves weren't called the maple leaves until 1927, but hey, I don't want to call them blue shirts. ….I am kind of guessing no one will care about this though XD…._

_Lastly, I hope no one minded, I only just realized this was a food heavy chapter…I guess if you want people to talk about things you sit around a meal? I promise gunfights and such soon!_

_I await your reviews with excitement!_


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